Star Wars: A New Dawn (TheCorsair, Xanaphia)

STAR WARS
EPISODE IV

A NEW DAWN

It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire.

During the battle, Rebel spies managed to steal secret plans to the Empire’s ultimate weapon, the DEATH STAR, an armored space station with enough power to destroy an entire planet. 

Pursued by the Empire’s sinister agents, Prince Bail Organa races home aboard his starship, custodian of the stolen plans that can save his people and restore freedom to the galaxy….​

---

Bail shivered in the iron grip of the Stormtroopers, trying not to show any fear. It was a futile gesture, he knew, but it was the last thing he could do. A last moment of defiance, a final effort to buy a little more time for the droids to escape.

The spinal corridor of the Tantive IV stank of ionization and smoke and death. Bodies littered the floor, a few in the white assault armor of Imperial Stormtroopers, but far more in the uniforms of his own crew. Brave men and women, dedicated to the cause of freedom, who had given their all to buy him the last precious minutes he needed to enact a desperate gamble.

The Stormtroopers shoved him forward, and he nearly went to his knees before the two black-cloaked figures that approached. Swallowing his dread, he squared his shoulders. "Lord Vader," he said slowly, masking his fear, "only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not..."

One of the figures pushed back its hood, revealing a handsome young man with sandy blonde hair. "Don't play games with us, Your Highness," he said. "You weren't on any mercy mission this time. You passed directly through a restricted system. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by rebel spies." He stepped closer, blue eyes flickering with red and orange flame. "I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bail replied, forcing himself to meet that deceptively mild gaze. "I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a..."

The second figure threw back its hood, revealing a dark-haired, imperious young woman. "You are a part of the rebel alliance and a traitor!" she snapped, gesturing to the Stormtroopers. "Take him away!"

As the Stormtroopers dragged him away, an Imperial officer approached the two. "My lords, holding him is dangerous. If word gets out, it could generate sympathy for the rebellion in the Senate."

"We have traced the rebel spies to him," Luke replied, voice deceptively calm. "Now he is our only link to their base."

The officer glanced past his black-cloaked shoulder. "He'll die before he tells you anything."

Leila smirked. "Leave that to me."

---

Emperor Palpatine, ruler of the galaxy, looked down upon the figure kneeling before him. "Rise, my daughter, and approach me."

She rose, and before his court he did her the honor of descending the three steps from his dais to take her hand. "You have made us proud, my daughter. You have made me proud." He smiled, the effect hideous thanks to the burn scars that made a mask of his features. "There is but one test more, to prove yourself worthy of elevation to the Sith. Walk with me."

He strode the length of his throne room, discretely shadowed by the crimson-armored figures of his Imperial Guard, escorting her into an office that overlooked the Coruscant cityscape. "Once," he said, staring out the window, "this room was the meeting chamber of the Jedi Masters. Before we purged their weakness from the Empire." He watched her reaction in the reflections in the window. "Lord Vader was most... effective."

It was a goad, those words. Vader had slain her mother, not long after her birth. He smiled at her response. "But the galaxy is vast, and the Jedi are clever cowards. An Inquisitor, Twelfth Brother, reported that he may have found one in the Outer Rim." A pause. "That was three months ago. Twelfth Brother has not reported since."

He turned, staring at his daughter with burning red eyes. "The Inquisitors are not Sith, but only a Sith could defeat one. Or a Jedi. And his last transmission was from a world named Tatooine - a barren rock notable for only one thing." He paused, letting the tension build. "It is the home world of Darth Vader."

He strode forward, resting his withered hands on his daughter's shoulders. "Go to this Tatooine. Find me this Jedi and bring me his head. Or find me proof that Lord Vader acts against me." He squeezed her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. "Prove yourself worthy. Prove yourself to be my strong right hand, Mara."

Thirty years ago.

Twenty three years ago.

---

"Lord Vader was most... effective."

The phrase stung as he spoke it, spoke in praise of the man who cut down Scarlet, loyal agent of the empire and loyal wife of the Emperor. Her mother, a woman she hardly had a chance to know. Her father knew the hatred she carried for the man, and he knew that hatred had made her strong. Taught her how to use that hatred , to harness it and use it against her enemies. The enemies of the empire.

“Vader was a paranoid coward who seized an opportunity to eliminate his rival within the Empire,” she declared. Her father did not respond directly, but smiled. He instead went on to detail her mission, the mission that would see her elevation to Sith. A chance to find evidence of Vader’s betrayal, and finally avenge her mother. She did not hide the smile that lit up her face.

“You honor me, father, with this assignment. I will not fail you, nor my mother’s memory.”

---

Leia smoothed her hair back as she exited the interrogation room, leaving only a shaken, pale Bail behind her. Her eyes remained closed until orange fire crackled and burnt off, meeting her brother’s hypnotic gaze. “Well?”

“Two droids were sent down to the planet’s surface. Sent to seek out some ‘Quentin Hall’. Another rebel agent, no doubt,” She filled in, avoiding her brother’s eyes. Which instead lead her attention down his arms, well built from years of saber practice. Shaking her head of the intrusive thought, she pushed past him, “I’ll be taking a unit of Storm troopers planet side to find them.”

“Wait, shouldn’t we report this to fath– er, Lord Vader?” Luke questioned, grabbing his sister by the shoulder. There was that strength again, in his grip, “This is his home planet, after all. He might have some insights on where to begin searching.”

“Yes, the very planet where he was enslaved and lost his mother. I am sure he’d be thrilled to return,” Leia snarled, annoyed by the way his touch had her blood pumping. “If you want him to think you aren’t capable of this mission, send for him. But I can handle myself.”

“I am ready,” Luke insisted, his body brushing against hers “We will both go down there, with a unit of storm trooper apiece. Cover more ground that way.” She bit her lip to avoid shuddering, and nodded.

“Let’s move out, then.”

---

Mara Jade landed at the Mos Eisley space port, which, she soon discovered, was a rather generous name for it. That this trash heap of a planet produced anything of worth was a shock. Clearly the only people who came here were the smugglers and gangsters who needed a pit stop between moving their product to more profitable worlds, and the sad people who were born here and never had the means to leave. Oh, and possibly a Jedi, looking to hide and cower rather than face up to the treachery they had wrought towards the empire.

Or, as Mara hoped, evidence that Vader was making a move against her father. All she needed, all she ever wanted out of this life was an excuse to kill him, to have her mother’s vengeance.

Surveying the desolate landscape, looking for some of where to begin looking, she found it, in an unexpected way. Was that…an escape pod? Off in the horizon? What in the world? It would have been impossible to ignore the imperial scuffle happening just above the planet, and while she doubted it had anything to do with her mission, nothing could be discounted in the moment.

By the time she reached the crash site, all that was left was the ruined husk of the vehicle, and two sets of tracks, leading to the west. Tread tracks and ones that could have been made by a bipedal lifeform, if not for the near perfect uniformity of the strides. Two droids landed, and no one else. No corpses, unless the droids were carrying them. She pulled out her macrobinoculars, scanning in the direction the tracks lead.

A R3-S3 astromech and another she couldn’t identify at this distance, with matte silver plating and human proportions. They didn’t seem to be carrying anything, but were making their way toward something with determination.

Well, it was as good a place to begin her investigation as any.

Luke stepped stepped into the blazing heat of the Tatooine afternoon, the air dry and doubly hot in contrast to the shaded interior of the transport. Around him, Stormtroopers dismounted and took up guard positions. "I hope this one pays off," one of them grumbled, then straightened to attention as Luke glancee at him. "I mean, that is..."

"No, I agree," he said with a hint of a smile. "This planet is unpleasant, isn't it?" He'd studied his father's records from the Clone Wars, and had learned that a certain level of familiarity and friendship with the common soldiers - combined with competence and strict but fair discipline - earned loyalty. Perhaps it wasn't the way of the Sith, but so what? Slaves were bound by chains, while the Force freed you.

Still, he'd seen all he wanted to see of Tatooine. The landing sites of the escape pods had oroved fruitless, so he and his sister and their troops had begun visiting the local moisture farms to ask questions. Now he strode towards the last one, a typical underground dwelling on the edge of the Jundland Wastes. "Who are they?"

"The Lars family, sir," a Stormtrooper supplied. "Owen and Beru."

The names sounded slightly familiar, and they looked familiar as he approached. He was tall and stocky and strong, and she was broad and matronly, and both stared a littlecas he approached. "Good afternoon," he said, removing his hood. "I am..."

"Annie?" gasped the woman, Beru. Her husband Owen nudged her with his elbow.

Luke made the connection instantly. "Luke. Lord Luke Vader." He watched their eyes. "Son of the Lord Darth Vader. I'm looking for two droids." He produced a holodisk, displaying an image of an astromech droid and a protocol droid. "Have you seen them?"

"Plenty of droids on the farm," Owen said. "But none like them." He peered at the image. "Have you tried the Jawas? I saw one of their crawlers this morning, when I was out on the south ridge, it stopped for a while, like it was collecting something, then headed out into the wastes."

Luke snapped the display off and tucked it away. "Thank you. There is a reward for their recovery. I'll see that you receive it, if this leads me to them." He turned to leave, then paused at the door of the transport. "Uncle." The look of shock on their faces made him smile.

---

It had been an eventful day, much more so than he had become accustomed to in the Wastes. What had begun with a routine trip into Anchorhead to trade for supplies had ended with a chance encounter with a burnt-out wreck of a sandcrawler. He'd have put it down to an atypical Sandpeople attack, except that all the signs were that the damage had been inflicted from inside. A Jawa civil war, perhaps?

And then there were the droids.

It wasn't surprising to find droids near Jawas, but it was surprising to find them independent and unrestrained. And it was even more surprising when the protocol droid identified him by name - by his real name - and proclaimed they were a gift, and that they had a message for him. He considered destroying them then, because they were clearly a trap, until they said who had sent them.

Bail Organa. A name he hadn't heard in nearly two decades.

"Right," he said, opening the door to his dwelling. "Come on on." He caught sight of himself in a small mirror as he unshouldered his bags. Shoulder-length grey hair and a matching grey beard, and seamed, sun-beaten skin. His eyes were grey as well, the dull grey of the pitted steel that had replaced the eyes he'd been born with. "So, give me this message," he demanded, beating sand from his outer robe.

"You heard our master, Beetee," the protocol droid said in its diffident voice. The astromech droid bleeped, and the protocol droid sighed. "No, you simply may not. He is our master, now!" The droid looked at him. "My apologies, Master Quentin. He is being stubborn."

"Quite all right, Triple-Zero," Quentin said, taking a seat on one of the two chairs in the spartan room. "I have all the time in the world."

The two droids bickered for a minute, and finally BT-1's projector flickered into life. A translucent image of Bail Organa flickered into life. "Quentin," it said, "years ago you served the Republic."

"And look what it cost me," Quentin grumbled, as if the recording could hear him.

"Now, I beg you to serve it once more in the struggle against the Empire. I would ask this request in person, but my ship has fallen under attack."

"Shit." Quentin sat up straighter and paid attention. Bail was a Senator and the Prince Consort of Alderaan. Who would attack him?

"I have placed information vital to the survival of the rebellion into the memory systems of this droid, information about the weapon used by the Empire to destroy the holy city NiJedha."

"Oh, this gets better," Quentin groaned. Even with his crippled perceptions he'd felt that, and hadn't believed the official Imperial story that terrorists had destroyed the city. Some of the rebel groups were lunatics, but all of them had a reverence bordering on obsession for the Jedi.

"My wife will know how to retrieve it. You must see this droid safely delivered to Alderaan. This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Quentin Hall. You're my only hope."

He stared at the empty spot where the recording had played, brooding. Then, sharply, he looked up. Lost in the message and his thoughts, he hadn't noticed the figure that entered his home. With a grunt he came to his feet, the white blade of his lightsaber igniting as he dimly sensed the aura of darkness it carried. Another of those Inquisitors, or...

Then he saw her clearly, and shock coursed through him. "Kaydia?"

Following the droids had been…eventful. They had managed to get themselves captured by some Jawas. While Mara was checking to see how much physical currency she had on her, in case she needed to buy the droids, they had managed to free themselves, the astromech droid releasing its oil pan and igniting its after burners, until the sand crawler was in flames.

Once more, the droids continued their relentless pursuit of their goal. Which seemed to be the man who caught up with them not long after they free themselves from the Jawas. She followed at a distance, not wanting to alert any of them to her presence. If this old man was the one who killed Brother Twelve, he couldn’t be underestimated.

His dwelling was typical of the area, built into the ground to withstand the sandstorms and heat. He didn’t notice her as he escort the droids inside, and she quickly closed the distance, listening to him speak with the droids, catching bits of message the droids carried for him.

“-you served the Republic-
-serve it once more in the struggle against the Empire-
-weapon used by the Empire to destroy the holy city NiJedha-
-Help me, Quentin Hall. You're my only hope.”

So he was someone who served the Republic, before it stamped out the stain of the Separatists, and became the Empire? It wasn’t proof he was a Jedi, but it lent strength to the claim. If nothing else, it proved he was indeed a rebel, or a sympathizer, and that could be valuable. It wasn’t what her father asked her to do, but enemies of the empire were enemies of her father, and she would not abide them to live.

While he was engrossed in the hologram she made her move, pushing in the door silently. Three strides and she be in range. Its be better to incapacitate him, so he could be interrogated for information, so she readied her stun baton, finger twitching over the trigger as she stepped inside.

He was quick for an old guy, turning to face her in a smooth motion, a white lightsaber glowing in his hands. A Jedi weapon, for the most part. Didn’t prove he was the one she was sent for, just more evidence in favor. Incapacitating him wasn’t an opening, as she called her own saber to her hands, ready to strike before he spoke.

"Kaydia?"

She stopped short as the name filled the space between them, the shock of hearing it disarming her. Her mother’s name, her birth name at least, the name she abandoned in service of the Empire. Everything she knew about her mother had come from her father, the emperor, but he hardly spoke of her. Too hard, she supposed, to reminisce over his lost love. Instead, he spoke of her accomplishments, the great service she provided to keeping the Empire strong, and safe. “How do you know that name?” She asked, holding her crimson blade before her, still ready to defend her life in a moment’s notice. “Did you know my mother?”

---

Luke had taken the moisture farms to search for the droids, so Leia headed to Anchorhead, seeing if she couldn’t find something there. And aside from a few ambitious traders who thought they could sell even better droids, she found nothing of value there.

Her last stop was the dried goods stand, where a human with leathery, sun dried skin and dark eyes looked up at her, “How can I help you, miss?”

“I’m looking for two droids, a BT-1 and a 000-PCD,” She explained, demonstrating with her hologram.

“No droids here, miss.”

“Clearly,” She said, looking around. She considered for a moment before asking a follow up question, “What about a Quentin Hall?”

“Quentin Hall?” The proprietor repeated, scratching his chin, “Doesn’t ring a bell. What’s he look like?”

Leia frowned, “I am not sure. No one by that name, or something similiar?”

“No, no Halls ‘round these parts. There is Old Quinn, comes in here sometimes.”

“Old Quinn?” She repeated, encouraging the man to elaborate.

“Just a hermit, keeps to hisself, mostly. Little off, but once in a blue moon he comes down to the cantina, and cleans up on Sabacc. Not sure if he is damn lucky or just one hell of a bluffer.”

“And where could I find this Quinn?”

“He leaves out in the wastes, not exactly sure where. To the west, some ways.”

Placing down a handful of dactaries, Leia nodded, “Thank you.” At least she had something, if Luke’s search wasn’t fruitful. If this “Old Quinn” was the Quentin Hall they were looking for, she had ways of finding out.

He knew it wasn't her, even as he said the name. Kaydia was dead, had been dead for two decades. Dead at the lightsaber of the mysterious traitor Jedi he knew only by the name of Darth Vader. She couldn't be Kaydia, even if the reports had been false. She was too young, for one thing. Too young, and subtly different in appearance.

“How do you know that name?” She demanded, igniting a crimson-bladed lightsaber. “Did you know my mother?”

The statement was a punch to the gut. Her mother. "Mara?" he gasped, as realization crashed in on him. Tyrannous had lied. Kenobi had lied. The daughter he'd thought dead... lived. "I... I knew your mother," he managed. Now wasn't the time to try and tell her. Not with a crimson lightsaber between them. "A... long time ago. You... you favor her."

There was a clicking sound, off to his left. He glanced, to discover that the astromech droid had opened several concealed compartments to reveal an assortment of weapons. "Pardon me, Master Quentin," Triple-Zero. "Master Bail had certain behavioral inhibitors built into the both of us, infuriating things really. May we have your permission to dispose of this intruder?"

"No!" Quentin barked, ore vehemently than he'd intended. Drawing a deep breath, he deactivated his lightsaber. It felt alien to lower his defenses before an adversary, but he even if she wasn't his daughter he doubted he could defend himself from her. Not the way he'd been crippled, and not with the power he could dimly feel radiating from her. Cold, dark power that tore at his heart. "No. I suspect that you'd be no match for her."

With a sigh, he took his seat once more. "So," he said, kicking the other chair across the room to his guest. "I assume you're looking for your missing Inquisitor? You'll find his lightsaber in that chest over there. A ridiculous, unwieldy sort of thing." He shrugged. "I kept it for the parts, mostly."

Leaning back, he studied his lost daughter with eyes of pitted steel. "So, what happens now? Do you simply kill me? Or do you drag me back to Palpatine as a prize for your Sith master?"

---

"Tell me what happened here," Luke said, staring at the ungainly vehicle that loomed over him and his men.

"Some sort of firefight, sir," Captain Helm replied as he strode down the ramp. "It started in the cargo hold."

"What sort of cargo?" Luke asked.

"Droids and machinery. Junk, really," Captain Helm answered. "We've got the bodies of these... Jawas? I think that's what they're called. Jawas. We've got Jawa corpses littering the inside. Blaster fire, mostly. Some electrocutions, and at least one seems to have been... dissected."

"Disceted?" Luke frowned at that.

"I can't think of another way to describe it, sir." There was disgust in the officer's voice, audible even through the mask. "Cut to pieces, mostly while it was still alive."

"Any ideas what did it?"

The officer shrugged. "Something with a knife and an enthusiasm for vivisection."

"Right. Check to see if there's any surveilance information from this hulk. I want to know for sure if those droids were here, and if they were then I want to know what took them." He barely registered Captain Helm's salute as he reached out through the Force, touching his sister's mind. sensory impressions came first, and he shivered a little in pleasure at the feel of cloth sliding over skin. He shoved the feeling away. I've got a bunch of dead junk dealers out on the borders of the Jundland Wastes, he told her, letting her perceive the sandcrawler through his eyes. And our uncle - did I tell you I met a relative, by the way? - said he saw these junk dealers picking up a couple of droids that might match the ones we're looking for. He stared at the blaster-burnt corpse on the sand before him. But I seem to have hit a dead end. You?

As it so happens, I am heading out to the wastes myself. Got a lead on an “Old Quinn,” who just might be our Quentin Hall. Let’s met up, and we can check it out together. She sent back, strapping goggles on before climbing in the land speeder. “Keep your eyes open here, in case anyone tried to sell some droids. Or just get rid of them, as the case may be.” She instructed her troopers, before revving the engine.

“As you command, Lady Vader.”


It didn’t take long to find him, with their connection in the force. He was usually there, in the back of her mind. Mostly unnoticed, unless a strong emotion or sensation arose, or they tapped into it. A bond within the force, shared between them, and them alone. Even their father, for all his power, and gifts in the force, didn’t have it with either of them. Not the way they had it with each other. It was familiar. Comforting. Disturbing.

It was why they always worked together. It proved such a strong benefit, it only made sense to take advantage of it. It brought them together, and drove an attachment between them that wasn’t strictly platonic. And that was terrified her. The more they worked together, the more they bonded, the closer they become, and the stronger the desire between them grew. Resisting the urge grew more difficult each day, and she found herself rationalizing it. After all, who would ever know her as well as her brother? No one. None would understand her mind, or her body, or her emotions like he did. The realization left her feeling empty, aching for him, and disgusted at herself for feeling that way.

Pushing those thoughts aside as she saw him in the distance, heading towards him. Slowing just enough for him to jump in. “I am guessing he isn’t a moisture farmer, so we will have to head deeper into the wastes to see if we can’t find his hovel. Locals say he lives alone, and keeps to himself mostly. Also that is his crazy, or a wizard, or possibly both.”

---

He called her name when she mentioned Kaydia being her mother, and that had her even more suspicious. And he seemed shaken by that, more shaken by that than her intrusion in his home. He knew something. Well, likely he knew many things of use to her, about the Jedi, about the rebels, about her mother… Her father had bid her to bring back his head, but he would be more valuable alive, interrogated until every bit of knowledge was wretched from his mind.

But he wouldn’t allow the droids to harm her, almost angry when he forbid it. And he turned off his saber, taking a seat instead. Resigned to his fate? “Not even going to fight me?” Mara snarled, annoyed almost. She wanted to prove herself, needed to prove herself and this bastard was refusing to oblige her. “I guess Jedi really are the cowards I’ve heard them to be.” Still, it didn’t change the fact that he had killed Brother Twelve. He could be a challenging a opponent for her, if he put up a fight, an even greater challenge if he utilized his droids, and yet, he offered her a chair. Something made him let down his guard, and it started when she mentioned Kaydia was her mother.

She turned off her saber, and took the seat, watching him carefully. Was this a trick? But how could he have known to say the one name that would pique her curiosity? She had to find out more, she might not get another chance, “I should take you in before the emperor, before my father but…I want to know about my mother. My father hardly speaks of her, only how her contributions strengthened and brought glory the empire. How did you know her, Kaydia? What…What was she like?”

"Coward?" Quentin shrugged, watching her take the seat he offered. "No, not really. Just a realist. I am, after all, a shadow of my former self."

He folded his arms and waited as she shut down her lightsaber. "I should take you in before the Emperor, before my father, but..."

"Father?" The word escaped him, a shocked sound of outrage at the enormity of the lie. But it made a certain sense, didn't it? How better to earn the trust of a child?

"I want to know more about my mother," she continued, looking at him curiously. "My father hardly speaks of her, only how her contributions strengthened and brought glory to the Empire. How did you know her, Kaydia? What... what was she like?"

This, Quentin realized, was a delicate time. Certainly not the time to tell her he was her father. She'd call him a liar, and laugh at such a 'crudely transparent' ploy. "I... served with your mother. As a Jedi." An imp if the perverse crooked his lips in a faint smile as he added, "She was... under me."

The smile faded as he settled back into his chair. "She was a troubled woman, your mother. Captured by Black Sun as a Padawan and enslaved by them for years, turned into an assassin. Even when she returned to the Order, her struggles with the darkness were... harder than most."

He remembered nightmares. The times she'd awaken in terror, clutching her lightsaber. Her struggles to look towards the light, to not draw on the well of darkness within her. "She carried scars, Mara, and not all of them on her flesh. And it was those scars that sent her to prison for murdering a Senator." His face darkened as he remembered the bastard and his 'collection'. "Because, seeking to do the right thing, she turned herself in." A shrug. "Maybe she was stronger than I was, because I would have helped her cover the whole thing up."

And he would have. Even though she'd used the Force to shatter each of his bones and keep him alive to experience it. Even though she'd sat back with a glass of wine and watched him die in terrible agony. "I... knew she had a daughter. But I believed her dead, murdered by Darth Terminus." The statement tickled a memory. "Which reminds me... I have something. Something you should have. May I?"

He rose carefully and searched through the few chests in his home. When he came back, he was carrying a simple hilt. Smiling, he offered it to her pommel first. "Your mother entrusted it to me, when she surrendered herself to the Jedi. Her lightsaber."

Mara frowned as he spoke of her mother being a Jedi. She hadn’t heard that before, and nearly called him a liar outright. But he wasn’t lying. Not about that at least. There was something he was holding back from her, and perhaps she find out from interrogation. For now, she let him speak, let him reveal what he knew.

And what he revealed was disconcerting. She was forced to be an assassin? Her father assured Mara that her mother was proud of her service, and that she would find that same pride following in her mother’s footsteps. Yet Quentin spoke of her struggles. Why did she struggle? The dark side was power and strength, who would give that up?

“Would have covered up the murder of a senator? No wonder my father purged the Jedi from the Empire when he created it. Was there a single Jedi who wasn’t a corrupt coward?” She huffed, but he seemed distracted by memories. More he was holding back from her. He changed the subject, speaking of her, of how he thought Darth Terminus had killed her. Another traitor, to her father, to the empire. The galaxy was full of traitors and enemies, seemingly everywhere she turned.

"Which reminds me... I have something. Something you should have. May I?"

She blinked at that, and nodded, still watching him carefully as he rummaged about his things. He returned with a lightsaber and a smile. Reverent fingers traced the leather straps on the hilt, before taking a grasp of it. It felt right in her hands, more natural than the one her father had provided her.

Mara was conflicted. She had clear instructions, from her father, the emperor. A great honor. And yet…could she do it? Could she kill the last link to her mother? Why was he telling her things about her mother that her father should have told her? “Thank you…” she started, turning the saber over in her hands, “but it doesn’t change the fact that you are an enemy of the empire and I need to –Shit!” The door flew off the hinges with a loud screech of rending metal. Just as the door opened, blaster fire came in, giving her just enough time to light her mother’s saber and deflect it away from them.

---

“That has to be it,” Leia decided, motioning toward the distant hovel. Luke nodded and moved to call storm troopers to their position, before she stopped him with her hand on his wrist. “No, that will attract attention. We can handle this, together.” She insisted, not letting her gaze falter.

Luke closed his eyes and, spoke in the force I sense two heartbeats. Leia joined him in closing her eyes, deepening their perception in the force. With their gifts working together, they had a clearer idea of what awaited them.

Two humans, one cloaked in the darkness and the other with minimal connect to the force. No, that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t like the typical force insensitive. It was…muffled, stifled. Severed. It caused Leia to shudder, horrific implications running through her mind. As much as her conflicted feelings for Luke bothered her, the thought of them being torn from her was even more distressing.

Returning focus to the task at head, the twins began to sense the layout of the dwelling. Three rooms, with the two humans and two droids concentrated in the main living space. “These are the droids we are looking for,” Leia remarked with a smirk. She pulled out her blaster pistol “Pull the door off, I’ll shoot them.”

Once, long ago, he wouldn't have been caught off guard like this. But Dooku had stripped him of that, before he'd taken his eyes. So the first warning he had was the proximity alarms, vibrating against his wrist in warning of an approaching vehicle. And then the hiss as Mara ignited her saber - Kaydia's saber - as the door tore loose and hurled across the sand.

A young woman in dark robes stepped onto view. "Mara?" she gasped, sounding shocked even as she opened fire.

As Mara deflected the shots, Quentin tapped a button on his wrist. Detonations sounded as the sand on the narrow approach to his home erupted in a hellstorm of homemade explosives. Blinding flashes and howling sonic sand fragmentation charges scattered confusion and death among the Imperial Stormtroopers, and even the young Sith staggered as she drew on the Force to protect her from the explosions. "Come on!" Quentin shouted, grabbing Mara's shoulder and tugging. "I've got a Skyhopper back here!"

"Master?" Triple-Zero asked. "May we be of service!"

"Covering fire!" Quentin snapped, and fall back with us!"

"Oh, thank you master!" 000's attention turned to his counterpart. "Beetee? If you would..?" With a squeal of maniacal glee, the astromech droid opened up, spraying a gout of flame through the door and hammering blaster fire in its wake.

"Come on!" Quentin shouted, kicking a back panel open. A tunnel snaked back into the bare rock of the mesa, obviously carved by a lightsaber. "I don't know who they are, but they're no more your friends than mine!"

“Mara?” Leia gasped, already squeezing the trigger of her blaster. Not that it mattered, the young woman wielding a green lightsaber that deflected the bolts away. A blink later explosions erupted from the surroundings, Luke just grabbing her in time for their powers to meld in a protective barrier. They had to duck behind the sand crawler as more blaster fire followed the explosions.

“Mara’s in there?” Luke asked, “As in Imperial Princess Mara Jade Palpatine?”

“Yeah, meeting with a rebel agent, and wielding a green saber,” Leia explain, peeking out of cover to return fire. “Go, I’ll cover you!”

Luke charge forward, and Leia was right behind, exchanging volleys of blaster fire with the inhabitants. The main room was empty, but a little search revealed the panel and self made tunnel. And out the other side of the tunnel was a sky hopper, already loaded up with the humans and droids. “Dammit, let’s go back. They are likely heading for Mos Eisley.”

---

Once they had made it to the ship, and were lifting off, Mara got a second, better look at their pursuers. “What the hell are the Vader twins doing out here?” She asked, mostly rhetorically. Then realization dawned on her, “…shit. You’re a rebel agent! And they caught me with you! Shit, this will give Darth Vader just the ammunition he needs to strike down my father. Did…they set this up?” She chewed her lip as she worked through the information. “I need to get back to Coruscant, ASAP! Head to mos Eisley, I have a ship there!"

---

Leia jumped into the passenger seat of their sand crawler, as Luke took the wheel. “I need a land lock on Mara Jade’s ship. Should be a…” She looked to Luke; this was his area of expertise.

“A-24 Sleuth. The Eclipse.” Luke filled in, banking hard against a dune.

“She is traveling with a rebel agent, Quentin Hall, AKA Old Quinn, and the droids that have the stolen data, BT-1 and Triple Zero. Apprehend if possible, but do not let them get off world.”

"Vader twins?" Quentin echoed, gripping the control yoke of the Skyhopper. "What the fuck has Bail gotten me into?" He craned his head around, looking at Mara. "And you had a ship, girl. If anyone survived my little show back there, they'll have it impounded."

He checked the satnav, then banked the humming little ship towards port. "Hell, I'd even give Mos Eisley a miss, if I didn't need to get offworld now." He opened the throttle, and the humming got louder as acceleration pushed him back into his seat.

After a minute, he glanced back again. "And, for your information, I'm not a rebel agent. I'm a Jedi Knight, for all that I never held a command in the Clone Wars." She didn't kill him then and there, so he continued. "But I have to deliver these droids to rebels, yes. Because they contain the plans for whatever the weapon is that the Empire used to destroy NiJedha."

Still not dead. So he looked back once more, looking at the daughter he'd believed dead. "Why don't you come with me? Come to Alderaan, and learn the ways of the Jedi." He smiled a sad smile. "Like your mother."

Fuck, she was fucked. By the time she could get back to her father, to explain what had gone wrong and why, it might be too late. As it was, she’d be branded a rebel, killed on sight if she were lucky. And he was trying to convince her to join him, become a Jedi? “Just as bad as being a rebel,” She retorted, brooding with arms crossed under her bust.

Then a sigh, because what other choice did she have now? Perhaps she could use this, to find evidence of the rebel base, or their plans. She could claim after the fact she was a double agent the entire time, after she brought back valuable intel for the Empire. It wasn’t the mission her father assigned her, but she could still kill this Quentin Hall, if need be. It was the best plan she had now. Besides, it was more opportunity to learn about her mother.

“How are we going to get off world?”

---

“Mara Jade?” Stormtrooper ARW68023, ‘Arrow’, asked, his disbelief hidden beneath his white helm, “The Imperial Princess?”

“Correct,” Captain GH0T8831 ‘Ghost’ explained, holding up the hologram of the young woman.

“Guess the rumors of rebel spies high up in the empire government are true,” J4Y92841, ‘Jay’ acknowledged, scanning the surroundings cautiously.

“That, or we are in the middle of a coup,” Arrow pointed out.

“I’d recommend trying to take her alive. No need to run afoul of Darth Vader or Emperor Palpatine, if we can help it.” Capt. Ghost commanded, “Patrol the west entrance, and keep your wits about you.”

“Yes, sir!” Arrow and Jay replied in unison, making their way there. A skyhopper landed, with four occupants disembarking, “Halt! Present your identification.”

“You don’t need our identification,” the woman insisted, malachite eyes boring into his psyche.

“I don’t need your identification,” Jay agreed, lowering his weapon.

“We aren’t the ones you are looking for,” she insisted again, turning towards Arrow.

“You aren’t the ones we are looking for,” Arrow concurred, relaxing his stance. Both troopers resumed their patrol of the area.

“We need to leave, before Luke and Leia arrive,” Mara advised, walking briskly towards the space port.

"Just as bad as being a rebel," Mara snapped, crissing her arms defiantly.

"Worse, actually," Quentin laughed, turning his attention to the horizin once more. "Because the Jedi represent the kegitimate authority of the Republic, in a way Sidious the Usurper never will. We defended the Republic from its enemies, within and without, for a thousand generations. Before the dark times. Before the rise of the Empire." His voice was hushed, reverent. "And despite his lies, despite his Purge, the galaxy remembers us. A million inquisitors, a billion, no number is enough to silence the Force."

He flew in silence fir several minutes. "But don't take my word for it. Do what your mother did. Learn the ways of the darkness and the light, and choose for yourself."

---

He set the autopilot on the skyhopper, programming it to randomly visit other settlements to confuse the trail. Then his heart sank as he saw the Stirmtroopers aporoach. Once, they'd have been no threat. But niwm without the Firce or any preparations..?

"Oh, dear me," 000 remarked. "Shall I speak with them? I can be most persuasive."

"They're orobably looking fir a droid of your description," Quentin muttered back. "Accompqnied by a black and grey astromech like BT-1. How would you..?"

"I simmply murder the first one," 000 rep,ied cheerily. "And continue until one of them sees reason."

By then, though, Mara had dea,t with the Stormtroopers. Tgey stood cinfused, senses and thoufgts muddeied by the Force. "Oh, pooh," 000 huffed as they walked past. "I had so loojed firward to implementing my conflict resolution protocols."

"We need to leave, before Luke and Leia arrive," Mara huffed.

"Really?" Quentin drawled, looking around. "And thst looks likely." He pointed towards a low, domed building. "Spacer's dive, near the port. We can charter a ship there. They won't be the fine sorts you're used to on Coruscant, but the ships we'll find will be fast and reliable, and used to dangerous cargo." He headed across the sand towards it. "Corellian would be best. They grow good pilots, and most have no love for the Empire."

The interior was cool and dim after the twin sun afternoon, and Quentin paused to ket his eyes adjust. As he did, he heard a shout from the barkeep. "Hey! We don't allow their kind in here! The droids!" he added as Quentin looked at him confused.

"Of all the infernal cheek," 000 huffed. "Master, may I..?"

"No," Quentin snapped. "Just... wait outside. And ask - and obtain - permission before killing anyone." As the droids shuffled outside, he glanced at Mara with a curious little smike. "So. A little wager? You take the left, I take the right, and the first one to find a ship chooses where we go?" A shrug. "Leave it in the hands of the Force?"

Mara frowned at the old Jedi’s suggestion, “Did any of you ever get anything done with the Force?” But she didn’t argue, instead scanned the occupants and the scene. It was crowded, with a slew of strange alien species occupying nearly every inch. She could only name half the races present. Rather than let her ignorance shame her, she focused on the matter at hand. A Corellian, he suggested. She could find a Corellian, if there was one present.

Making her way through the crowd, she took a place at the bar. Ugh, she could so use a drink, right about now. Whatever this was, that passed for alcohol here. Beside her, a strange alien with buglike proportions click and clittered in its alien tongue, before reaching toward her shoulder to shove her. Her hand intercepted his, cuffing the wrist to the bar with enough force to shatter the small bones therein. She tried to leave it at that, going back to enjoy her drink when, on the otherside of her, a hideous scarred near-human spoke up for his friend.

“We don’t like you,” he snarled, punctuating with a shove. Mara just scoffed.

“You aren’t even worth the effort.”

“Not worth the effort? Bitch, I have been sentenced to death on over ten systems. You bet watch−” The snap hiss of a lightsaber cut off his threats, the only thing holding him up as his eyes went wide.

“Consider your sentence carried out,” she murmured, turning off her saber and letting his lifeless body crumble onto the floor. Eyes were on her for a moment, before everyone resumed their drinking without a blink.

"Did any of you ever get anything done with the Force?” Mara scoffed, surveying the crowd.

"Oh, you'd be amazed at the things we did with it," Quentin replied. "And without it - the Force is only one of the tools of the Jedi." He winked. "Reflect on that."

Before she could respond he slipped into the crowd, looking for a likely candidate. The first two tables he approached simply ignored him, but a third was willing to talk.

"If you'd gotten here a half-hour ago," boomed a tall, dark-skinned man in a navy blue jumpsuit, "we could have talked business. But I just picked up a cargo, and I'm bound for Rukbat now."

Quentin made a disappointed sound. "I'd hoped to hire a Corellian," he began.

"Course you did," the man laughed.

"So could you recommend someone?"

The man thought. "Hmmm... there's the Falcon. Solo might still be available."

"The Falcon Solo?" Quentin repeated.

"No, no, the Millennium Falcon. Han Solo's ship." He looked around, then pointed. "There."

Quentin looked, then looked again. The partner in question was two and a half meters of long, shaggy brown fur, with a bandolier and a mug. "The Wookie?"

"Yeah. He's Solo's partner. C'mon, I'll introduce you."

[he]

"There were any number of ways you could have handled that," Quentin said disapprovingly, stepping over the bisected corpse. "Killing him without reason was foolish, particularly with a lightsaber. You may as well have hung a sign on yourself that read 'remember me'." He sighed. "Still, what's done is done."

A huge, shaggy shape behind him made a hooting, growling sound. Quentin nodded agreement. "Yes, yes, I was getting to that. This is Chewbacca. He's first mate on a ship that might suit our needs."

“Han Solo, Captain of the Millennium Falcon. Chewie here says you might be looking for passage to the Alderaan,” the young man explained. He was handsome, she supposed, if not for that smug smirk that seemed plastered on his face. Or, perhaps, because of it?

“Perhaps. We will be needing a fast ship,” Mara explained, sizing him up. He laughed at her condition.

“Fast ship. I said I am the Captain of the Milliennium Falcon, didn’t I?”

“And?”

“It’s the ship that made the Kessel run in Twelve Parsecs. She’s more than fast enough for you, sweetheart.” The word dripped with condescension. She scowled, but Quentin placed a gentle hand on her arm before she could further agitate negotiations. “What’s the cargo?”
“Just us two, and our droids,” She explained, settling into her chair, “And no questions asked.”

Han looked over at his first mate, and back at them, “Local trouble? But you seem so friendly,” He teased, obviously referring the man she already killed.

“We are hoping to steer clear of imperial forces,” She elaborated, noting to herself that it was an odd position for an imperial princess to be in.

“Well, that’s gonna cost you extra.”

“How much?”

“10,000 credits. Upfront.”

“You got to be kidding me,” she scoffed, but he just shrugged and smirked. That same sexy smirk and made her want to pop him in the jaw. She half turned to Quentin, murmuring “I could probably get my ship out of impound if I bribed a storm trooper that much.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel…” He started, shifting to get up from the booth.

“Wait,” She put up a hand and sighed, “Half up front, half when we get there.”

"You got yourself a deal."

"You got yourself a deal," Han smirked, leaning back and trying not to stare too obviously at the redhead. Mara, Chewie had said her nane was. Not staring was hard, though, because damn she was hot. The kind of hot tht made the utilitarian jumpsuit she wore look sexy, which made him wonder what it would be like to peel it off of her. Probably a wildcat in bed...

Chewie hooted something. "Yeah, yeah," Han grunted. "When do you two want to leave?"

"As soon as possible," said the old man. Kentin, Chewie had said. But it might have been 'Quentin'. Wookies couldn't do a 'q' sound, after all.

"All right," Han said. "The Falcon's in bay 238. I can have the preflight done and be ready to go in..." He considered the errand he'd have to run, first. "Half an hour. Oh, and it looks like someone's taking notice if your handiwork, Red." He looked meaningfully at the door, where one of the Cantina employees was talking to a Stirmtrooper.

"Then we'll be going," the old man said calmly, and Han noticed that he used the reflection in his glass to study the troopers as he rose. "Bay 238, in half an hour."

"See you there," Han said with a mock salute, watching them head out the back. Well, watching Mara as she headed out the back. Because damn if she didn't have a fine ass. Went well with the rest of her fine, tight body. "Right," he breathed. "Ten thousand, Chewie! This'll really save our asses, pal. Get us clear with Jabba."

Chewie rumbled an admonishment and a warning. Han snorted. "No, I'm not thinking with the wrong head. Ten thousand? For an Alderaan milk run? Those two must want to get off world bad. She probably murdered someine, way her temper looks." He watched the Stormtroopers head slowly in their direction. "Go warm up the ship, wouldya? I'll handle the snowmen, and then Jabba."

Chewbacca hooted and rose, heading for the door. As he did, Han leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. "Alderaan," he laughed. "This'll be the easiest money I ever made."

“I hate the idea of having to leave my ship here,” Mara grumbled, pulling her hood over her distinct red hair, “It’s a damn fine ship.” Even more so, because the longer she followed Quentin, the less likely she was going to clear her name, and eventually return to claim her ship. She was stuck with him, for the meantime. Might as well wring more information about her mother from him.

“You said before my mother was troubled. Forced to become an assassin by the Black Sun. But by all accounts, she was very good at what she did,” Mara elaborated, dancing around the issue. Because the fact of the matter was that Her father had told her one thing, and Quentin told her another. And now the truth of that matter struck at the very core of her being, “My father said she was proud of her work. That it was necessary work, to ensure the security of the Empire.” That, by extension, she should be proud to take up her mother’s work, to serve in the same capacity as her. “You say she chose to return to the Order. That she wanted to be a Jedi, and not an assassin. It’s just…” I stand at the precipice of fate. If I follow in her footsteps, do I become an assassin, securing the Empire against threats? Or do I become a Jedi, seeking to restore the glory of the Republic?

“You seem to know her better than my father did. Which doesn’t make sense. But I know you aren’t lying. Holding something back, that I can tell but…” She thought about it, and frowned. This was why Jedi were so dangerous, she realized. Because they twist things around and challenged her long held world view. Made her question things she had never questioned before. “What would my mother have wanted for me?”

"Had a damn fine ship myself, once," Quentin grunted. "But, at the end of the day, a ship is just a thing. Ships, weapons, possessions, all just things. Things that tie you down, anchor you. Keep you a prisoner. You have to learn to let go." He grinned, watching her with his gunmetal eyes. "They aren't you, any more than your body is you. And you'll never realize that, while you cling to them."

He pulled his hood up as he stepped out into the burning light of the twin suns. "Also, on a practical level, if you don't learn to ket go the Stormtroopers will dance the jackboot stomp on you." He strode down the street, adopting an air of casual indifference. I'm nobidy special, his walk seemed to say, even as he gestured for the droids to join them.

Within a block, however, he was frowning. Mara's questions were cutting too close to home. "What would your mother have wanted for you?" he repeated. "Hm. Good question. It's not the right question, but it's a good one. She'd have wanted what any other mother would want for her daughter."

A knot of Stirmtroopers emerged from a side road. He didn't break his casual amble, just walked past and acknowledged them with a little nod. They barely glanced at him, casually looked at the droids, then watched apprecuatively as Mara passed.

"See, I knew your mother for a long time. Far longer than Sidious ever did, I wager. I hunted her as Scarlett, and was there when she passed the Trials and was knighted." He paused, looking sidelong at the daughter he'd thought dead. "Search your feelingd, Mara. What do you think your mother would have wanted?"

---

Han made his way out of the cantina, feeling exposed. Greedo was an idiot, one of the lowest tier of bounty killers on Tatooine, and that's why the schutta was a smoking corpse now. But it meant that Jabba was writing him off, planning to make an example of him. Damnit! Just as things were turning around! So he kept his eyes open as he walked, watching for other hunters, and his shoulderblades itched the entire way to the spaceport.

"Damnit," he grumbled as the blast doors to the bay hissed open. "I just need a few more days to..."

"To what, Solo?" boomed a voice. It wasn't human speech or a human throat, but Han spoke the language. And there, blocking the main ramp of the Falcon was Jabba. And a retinue of thugs and hired blasters, including Boba Fett and IG-88. The latter had Chewie on his knees, blastercannon against the back of his mate's shaggy skull.

"Jabba!" Han smiled, keeping his hands well away from his blaster. "Just who I wanted to see!"

---

"Any news?" Luke asked as the landcrawler rembled to a stop outside the storm walls of Mos Eisley.

"No sir," reported a trooper - Sergeant Cavanaugh, Luke recalled. "Nithing specific, at least. A TIE flight forced the skyhopper down outside Anchorhead, but there was nobody on board. The Princess' ship is still on lockdown and guarded, and we've received reports of an altercation in a local bar."
"Tell me more," Luke prompted. "There must be something about that, to warrant mention."

"Yessir," the Sergeant said, nodding. "The altercation was the killing of a local bravo. By a red-haired human woman with a green-bladed lightsaber, who was then observed speaking with a tramp freighter captain. Owns a ship called the, uh..." He checked a datapad. "The Milennium Falcon. I was about to take two squads to check in that ship, unless..." He waited exoectently.

Luke nodded. "An excellent idea. I believe we'll accompany you."

---

Han scowled as he brought the engines - far more powerfilul than a ship of the Falcon's size could legally iwn without the forged waivers he posessed - online. Things had gone well with Jabba, if you considered a 20% "good will charge" to be going well. But neither he nor Chewie were dead. So, yeah. Not too bad. Still, he'd have to scrounge up a run on Alderaan, ir this trip would end up costing them mire than they made. Because fuel and supplies cist, and he'd be handing the 10,000 right iver to Jabba.

Chewie hooted.

"Naw, you aren't getting senile," he assured his partner. "Just slow, in your old age." A frown, as the humor of the joke faded. "Besides, IG-88 and Boba Fett? That's a bad surprise." Glancing out the canopy, he blinked and eyed the redhead appreciatively as she stared at his ship. "But hey, our lucks finally changing. Get us launch clearance, and I'll go greet them."

With that he shimmied out of his chair and squeezed past Chewie, then made his way through the ship and down the ramo. "Welcome," he called to Mara. And to the old man and the droids as well. "Welcome to the Milennium Falcon."

“This is it?”Mara scoffed, arms crossed over her chest again. Annoyance encapsulated her mood in the moment, evident in her pose and tone. Though, truthfully, it wasn’t just annoyance at the smug, sexy smuggler who couldn’t help but get under her skin. Quentin’s words bother her, daring her to look within herself, to question everything she had been taught and believed her entire life. Perhaps she wasn’t sure she’d like what she found. Perhaps she already knew, already heard the whispering voice that cautioned against the path she was on. Perhaps she wasn’t ready for the difficult work of deconstructing her belief system.

“She’ll make point 5 past light speed.” Han defended.

“Point 5?” Mara questioned, equal parts impressed and skeptical.

Han smirked. Was he ever not smirking? “I’ve made some special modifications, let’s say. Maybe I’ll show you later, if you’re interested. But we’re a little rushed, so if you’ll just get on board…”

Before they could get to following Han’s instructions, a familiar voice called out into the hanger bay, “No one is lifting off today. Mara Jade Palatine, on behalf of the empire, you are ordered to stand down.” Leia appeared, alongside her twin and a unit of Stormtroopers.

“This blatant coup attempt will not stand! My father will know of your treachery,” Mara insisted, drawing her saber. Blaster fire erupted from the Stormtroopers and Han, while Mara deflected the blasts back with her saber. Han pulled her into the ship and bit the blast doors, calling for Chewie to start the engines.

“Friends of yours?” He teased, his hazel eyes piercing hers.

“Shut up and get piece of junk into light speed,” She snapped.

"Are you crazy?" Han shouted, returning fire with one hand and grabbing Mara's arm with the other. Carefully, because sge was still flailing around with her lightsaber. "Get in board!" He snapped off a few shots at the dark-haired woman, only to see her parry them with her own crimson sword. But, with some shouting and wrestling, he dragged her qboard and hit the button to close the ramp. "Buckle up!" he barked to the old man and the crazy redhead. "This is gonna be rough!"

"Chewie!" he shouted, sprinting towards the cockpit. "Lift! Lift!" His partners lowing roar echoed back. "No, I don't care if we've got clearance! We've justbeen Imperially entangled!" Even as he said it he felt the lurch as tthe gravatics kicked in, and the dock walls were falling away as he slid into his seat. "Right. Brace yourselves," he mumbled through gritted teeth as he gripped the controls. "Showtime."

The sublight engines roared to life and the Falcon lept skyward. Below him, he coukd see the y-shape of an Imoerial shuttle winging towards the bay they'd just vacated. "Too little too late, slugs!" he crowed.

"I doubt they're here for you," the old man said.

"Shaddup and enjoy the ride," Han bit back as the thin blue if atmosphere gave way to black. "A few minutes and... hm?" He glanced at the insistently flashing console. "Fuck."

---

The Lambda-class shuttle touched down, opening it's loading ramp as it did. Luke stood at the top, smiling quietly at his sister. "Shall we?" he asked, extending a hand. "I've already alerted Captain Droth. Sentinel and her escirts will be closing on them." He grinned. "We have them now."

---

Han spun the ship, wildly juking and weaving to avoid tractor beam firing solutions. "Star destroyer?" he complained. "And two Indominable heavy cruisers? That's ridiculous!"

"I thought you said this ship was fast?" Quentin said with a smile.

"Fast enough for you," Han snapped back. "You and her highness the Imperial Princess." Sarcasm laced the words. "Imperial entanglements, right. Pretending to be royalty's a death sentence, you know. So's pretending to be a Jedi. You two just doubled down in that grift, didn't you?"

He pitched the ship forward, evading a tractor beam crawling towards them at lightspeed. "Musta pissed off someone big, though? Sector governor, maybe?"

"That's not..." Quentin began.

"Any if my business, yeah, I know," Han laughed. "But I'd have charged more, if I'd known. Anyway," he checked his nav computer, "let's make trails." Grabbing a control lever, he pulled it back with a flourish. Stars lept towards them on trails of light then vanished, replaced by the twisting unreality of hyperspace.

“I never claimed to be anything!” Mara snapped, gripping the door frame as the ship punched into hyperspace. Damn, those imperial heavy were right on them! Maybe it was a good thing they were heading to Alderaan, and not Coruscant. The Vaders would expect her to head there, probably already have a trap set. This gave her time, time to figure out something. What, she still hadn’t a clue. But…

Search your feelings, Mara. What do you think your mother would have wanted? She looked over at Quentin, his words still affecting her. Some Jedi trick, perhaps?

The ship’s speed had leveled out, making moving a possibility once more. With a sigh she headed deeper into the interior, hoping to catch a moment to meditate, to see things more clearly.

---

Luke was optimistic they would capture the freighter, but Leia remained concerned. These smugglers always had some trick up their sleeve, as bad as the rebels without the excuse of principles or honor. Never the less she took his hand, hoping that optimism might reach her through his touch.

When they reached star destroyer, their father was already there, waiting for them. “Lord Father,” they spoke in haunting unison, kneeling performatively. Wasn’t something their father insisted on, except as a show of obedience, especially while tensions within the empire were at their highest.

“What happened on Tatooine? Where are the death star plans?” He asked, bidding them to rise.

“We located the intended recipient of the plans, a desert hermit by the name of Quentin Hall. When we closed in on his location, he had imperial company. That is, Imperial Princess Mara Jade Palpatine.” Leia explained.

“Mara Jade?” Vader repeated. His respirator hid his expression, but she could practically hear the smile forming on his lips at the name. “This is perfect. The emperor seeks to disband the Imperial Senate, centralize power in the hands of the sector governors. Claims of rebel entanglements poisoning the bureaucracy. How will that look, when news of his own daughter’s sympathies reveal where the true corruption within the Empire is? Where is she now?”

“She managed to slip through our grasp, escaping on a freighter.”

“The Millenium Falcon,” Luke filled in.

“We will find the princess in time, for now you two shall join me in the Alderaan system.”

“Alderaan?” Leia argued, “She likely headed to Coruscant, to hide behind her father-“

“And we have Coruscant surrounded with heavy cruisers. If she returns there, we will have her before she can touch ground. For now we turn our attention towards finding the rebel base.”

“Well, it’s not on Alderaan, that for certain,” Leia complained, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, but it is Bail Organa’s home world. It should prove as inspiration for him to reveal what he knows about the rebels.” Vader explained, a coldness in his tone that struck his daughter. Without another she nodded, and join him and Luke as they retrieved the prisoner.

Quentin rose, following Mara back into the common area of the ship. He couldn't sense her moods in the Force - Dooku had seen to that, almost twenty years ago - but he didn't need to. He could see the tension in her stance, and her hesitation in the way she held her head. She'd reached a tipping point, he knew, and one wrong word from him could tip her the wrong direction.

He smiled at that. Words weren't the only weapon a Jedi wielded.

So he he didn't speak. Didn't even make a show of watching where she went. Instead, he paced out a circle three meters in diameter on the deck, then took a stance in the exact center. Clasping his hands before his chest, he bowed to the eight cardinal directions before gripping the hilt of his lightsaber in both hands in the opening position of the Shi-Cho form. Closing his eyes, he tried again to ooen his maimed senses to tge Force. Then he began to move, igniting his blade as he flowed theough each posture in turn.

"There is emotion," he murmured, reciting the words of the Code as Master Valis had taught him, "yet there is peace. There is ignorance, yet there is knowledge."

The words were a mantra and a timing chant all at once, a way to focus himself in the moment as he slashed and parried at a slow, dance-like pace. No hurry here, as he wheeled and flowed. The secret was to seek perfection of form.

"There is passion, yet there is serenity." Kaydia. Thoughts of his dead wife always returned at that line, bringing memories of joy and sorrow. He let them flow through him, embracing them and letting them go.

"There is chaos, yet there is harmony." He flowed into the final posture, and as always he could almost feel the Force touch him, almost feel his lost connection to all living things, and he would have wept if Kenobi had left him tear ducts. "There is death, yet there is the Force."

If he could touch it, he wondered again for the ten thousandth time, would he feel Kaydia's presence around him? Or had she been lost to darkness, when she tried to kill Vader? The thought was terrible, despite the peace brought by meditation.

His eyes snapped open as he shut off his lightsaber. Mara stood opposite, staring at him.

Mara could hear movement echoing through the ship as she walked, following her. She wanted to be alone, given a chance to think, to clear her mind, to process everything that had happened since she arrived on Tatooine. When they entered the common area of the ship, she turned, nearly ready to tell him that, when she saw what he was doing. Moving peculiarly, with a purpose that was a mystery to her. He was speaking, not to her, but it still felt as if it was for her. Saying nothing, she just watched.

"There is emotion, yet there is peace.
There is ignorance, yet there is knowledge.
There is passion, yet there is serenity.
There is chaos, yet there is harmony.
There is death, yet there is the Force.”

He moved in time with the words, a slow rhythm that seemed more performative than practical. She wouldn’t expect to be able to tap into his surface thoughts, not if he were a Jedi, but there was nothing stopping her. He thought of her mother, thoughts that brought him joy and sorrow before letting them pass. Strong feelings, for someone he worked with. Stronger feelings than she even felt from her father, a man who had loved her.

There was something else strange about his mind, as he struggle to touch the force, struggled, and failed to make that connection. Weren’t all Jedi supposed to be force sensitive? Quentin hall seemed to be full of mysteries and half-truths.

“What was that?” She asked, when he stopped, blue-green eyes meeting his dull gray ones. “What you were saying, some Jedi chant? What does it mean?” She let him answer, leaning against the hull of the ship. Trying to figure out how to word the other questions she wanted to ask him.

“You…you aren’t force sensitive, are you? At least, not now, you aren’t. What happened? How did you…lose it?” This question came with concern, worry in her voice as she wondered if she could lose it as well.

Quentin smiled at the question. "A sort of 'Jedi chant', yes. It is the Code of the Jedi. One version of it, at least - penned by Master Matthiau Har'Kovash, nicknamed 'the Heretic', as a rebuttal to the form of the Code formulated by Master Odan Urr. This would have been..." He pursed his lips in thought. "About five thousand years ago, shorty before the original Sith Empire encountered the Republic."

Stretching a little, he took a seat near the holographic dejarik board. "The Code is the foundational teaching of the Jedi, the understanding that shapes our connection to the Force. It..."

"You... you aren't Force-sensitive, are you?" Mara interrupted, fear obviius in her voice. "At least, not now, you aren't. What happened? How did you... lose it?"

He sighed. "Darth Tyranous happened. Count Dooku. He captured me, during the Clone Wars. Tried to break me, to turn me to the darkness." He bit his lip, remembering tortures whise pain had never fully ended. "When he failed, it amused him to... to tear away my connection to the Force. Right before Kenobi burned my eyes out." He smiled, but there was no warmth or humor in the expression. "Sometimes, I can still almost feel it. And that is when the pain is the worst."

After a moment he rose again. "The Code," he said, "teaches balance. From a place of balance you can move freely in whatever fashion is necessary, and then return to balance once more. Stand up." He paced across the room, then turned to face her with lightsaber in hand.

"I've seen you use your blade twice, now. Both times, a mixture of Ataru and Juyo." He frowned. "Highly aggressive, and woefully inappropriate for defending yourself." Igniting his lightsaber, he took a stance. "This is Shii-Cho," he declared, watching her expectently.